


Secure

by syntheticvision



Series: Usque ad finem [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark fic, F/M, Kidnapping, No use of y/n, Rape/Non-con Elements, Super Serum Baby, The Shield Makes an Appearance, Violence, dark bucky barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26226244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syntheticvision/pseuds/syntheticvision
Summary: Reader has escaped from Bucky and Steve, waiting for the day that they will inevitably find her.She'll be waiting for them.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Usque ad finem [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1897819
Comments: 72
Kudos: 174





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're still chugging along.
> 
> It'll be a pain train for a bit.
> 
> Tags have been updated as well.

The gun sat in your lap, your eyes steady on the darkness outside the window.

You'd gotten used to the floodlights that turned on with any movement, even at the slight of a gentle breeze. You had entertained the thought of changing the timer but you knew better. Any adjustment of the traps you had set was a sign of weakness.

Forty-five days.

Each day that passed was another chance to learn something new. Teaching Grant how to write full sentences. Testing out more traps. Living off the land.

Shooting practice. 

Axe throwing.

The amount of time that had passed did not make you bring down your guard. Rather it was the opposite, every sense on high alert, waiting for them to appear. You dreamed about it, interspersed with the nightmares that made you gasp and clutch your pillow. Grant had crept into your room a few times to sleep, ultimately seeing your breakdowns as he tried to soothe you. After the fourth time, tears staining his cheeks while he tried to wake you from your sleep, you took to journaling, detailing every single instance of the cruelty at their hands. From the pen to the paper, your words flowed and the nightmares began to disappear.

Sometimes you were nostalgic, scrolling back to pictures of happier times, when you were naive and didn't know any better. The engagement on the beach, where Steve had managed to capture the moment you'd realized Bucky was proposing. The whisper of the fierce love you had for him in his ear during your first dance as husband and wife. Steve had taken that photo as well. Little moments that he snapped, sending to you as a reminder that you now understood that he was always watching. They were thick as thieves, the two of them. Never separated for too long, best friends until the end of the line. What other man could understand Bucky like Steve? The need for control, to keep everything in order - including a wife, who had relished the thought of being cared for and looked after. What you wished you would have known then.

There was no time to think about the past. It was easy to lock it away when you were still searching the premises, the monitors to your left providing more views to the outside. Only the present mattered. The future was still being created by how you would react.

Your body relaxed, signs of sleep beginning to overtake you and you closed your eyes briefly before you tucked the gun under the waistband of your jeans as you allowed yourself a nap.

Tomorrow would be forty-six days.

🧨

The glass shattered, the bullet narrowly missing your head while you slept.

It wasn't a miss by any means. This was a warning shot.

By your calculations, you had ten minutes to get Grant to safety. At the sound, his eyes were round with surprise and fear when he reached you. You'd trained him for this, no matter what happened.

"Mommy!" he was close to tears when he reached you. You'd forgotten about his hearing, so much more sensitive than your own. You'd protected him so much that you knew he couldn't fully understand what was going on.

"It's time to play hide and seek now," you assured him in a whisper, wrapping your arms around him and kissing the top of his head while you knelt at his side. "We've practiced and you're so good at it now, remember? Go hide."

"Come with me," Grant pleaded, pulling your hand, his grip like a vice.

"I'll come find you. But you gotta hide now, okay?"

He ran from you, his little feet bouncing against the hardwood floor before you heard a series of doors close. He'd found his spot. He was safe for now.

Your fingers gripped the gun while you rose, the floodlights turning on simultaneously, the yard practically glowing with light. The cameras were shot, one by one, the monitors going black. Bucky had always been a good shot, made only more precise as time had gone on. You flattened yourself against the wall, listening for any sound other than your heart slamming into your chest. You repeated the mantra that Grant was safe in your head until you felt yourself calm.

You'd prepared for this.

The front door shattered, pieces of wood flying past you. Heavy footsteps crunched over the debris. You had to time it right. A tip of a black boot caught your sight, your finger curled over the trigger. You fired twice, one hitting his metal arm and the other in his vest before you dodged his fist that swung narrowly past your nose before you dropped to the floor, swinging your leg out before as it made contact with his legs as he fell. You scrambled to your feet, firing once more at his leg, his shout of pain confirming you'd gotten a shot in. He was behind you now, limping but still strong. You turned around, pointing the gun at him.

"Not this again, sweetheart." Bucky winced slightly, his hand over his wound. "You tried before, remember? It didn't work then and it won't work now."

"I'll kill you," you hissed, your hand steady while his blue eyes washed over you.

"Will you?"

The loud sound of broken glass behind you almost made you turn your head. You would not be distracted by this tactic and Bucky nodded his head in the direction of Grant's room.

"Which one will you save?" Bucky asked, the sound of the walls breaking. "Yourself? Or our son?"

Grant's scream tore at your heart and you ran toward the door, Bucky's arms around your waist as you both fell to the ground. Your foot plunged into the wound in his thigh and he gave a pained shout, grabbing your hair and smacking your face down onto the hardwood. Pain shot through your head and down your shoulders, blood seeping down your nose.

"You can't ever run from me. I'll always find you. Maybe you just need to learn that your actions have consequences." He pulled you up by your hair, his grip around your arms so tight that you winced. Your head throbbed as blood dripped onto the floor.

The door to Grant's room swung open, Steve holding Grant in his arms tight. Even in the darkness, you made out Steve's black eye and busted lip.

Bucky's handiwork.

Grant saw your face and he immediately tried to get out of Steve's arms, kicking and fighting while he reached out to you.

"Mommy! Let me go Uncle Steve! I need my mommy!" Grant screamed at the top of his lungs, tears spilling down his cheeks as Steve ignored him, walking past you, his little voice cracking with fear.

At this, you fought against Bucky harder. They were going to take him, you were sure of it. With all the strength you could muster, you elbowed Bucky as hard as you could, tilting backwards to spin out of his grasp to run after Steve. There was no time to look for the gun that had fallen from your hands when Bucky had tackled you.

All you could think of was to hold Grant, to keep him safe and away from Steve and Bucky. Even now, you heard his faint cries, Steve still continuing down the path.

"Grant! I'm right here!" you shouted to him, watching his hands reach for you while on Steve's shoulders. Tears blurred your vision while you continued to run, only to fall at the blinding pain that hit your legs.

You landed on the hard ground, the wind knocked out of you as you tried to get your knees, Grant's screams intensifying as he saw you fall. No matter how hard you tried to get up, you fell, the knives buried into your calves. You pulled them out angrily, still trying in vain to get to him when Bucky reached you, grabbing your arms and forcing them behind you. You screamed in frustration, shaking with anger.

"You don't think you were the only ones with games? Grant loves hide and seek. Who do you think taught him how to do that? Steve used to be the best at it, you know. Before the serum, he could hide anywhere. Slip through the smallest spaces."

A car started and you screamed in fury and in heartache.

"Shh," Bucky said against your hair. "Do you think I'd hurt him?"

"I hate you!" you spat, still fighting to get out of his grasp.

"I'll tell you what we'll do. I'm going to spend some quality time with Grant and you are going to decide what is more important. Your freedom or our son."

His metal hand gripped your throat, lifting your head as you coughed.

"That's not an answer, sweetheart. Maybe you need to sleep on it."

You kicked against him while his grip increased and you struggled to breathe, dark spots appearing in your vision while you hit your hands against his arm. The only thing you could think of was Grant. He was afraid and you knew he would be wondering where you were. You would find him, keep him safe.

That was the last thought you remembered before it all turned black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wouldn't say Bucky and Steve have won yet. Let us remember that the stakes are now much higher since they've taken Grant.
> 
> Historically speaking, that never bodes well.


	2. Chapter 2

You dreamed of when they placed him in your arms, the way you shook while his little body fit so perfectly against you. He gazed at you, barely minutes old, swaddled in a blanket and you knew love like you never had before. Out of the pain that you had experienced, he was the good. The beacon of hope that you snuggled against your chest under Bucky's watchful eyes. He'd seen the way you carefully watched him when he held Grant that first night, the fear in your eyes apparent. You both knew that your son would forever be a bargaining chip to keep you compliant.

When you came to, pain took hold and you let out a shuddered breath, trying to pull yourself up slowly. Though shaky, you stood on your own, surveying the empty yard with your eyes settling on Grant's toys that sat deserted on the grass. Every step you took was painful, gritting your teeth while you wiped the dried blood from your nose. The living room was in shambles, spots of blood still on the carpet from both Bucky and yourself during the scuffle.

You took stock of how injured you were once you reached the bathroom. Your lower lip was swollen, a medium sized bump on your temple and scratches marred your face. Your neck showcased Bucky's strength, the dark marks purple on your skin. Your calves ached, the stab wounds shallow but still painful and throbbing, indicating infection. There would be no trips to the emergency room.

When you'd tried to run the first time and fallen, your belly barely missing the concrete from the fall, you'd sprained your wrist from the impact. A concerned neighbor had taken you to the hospital and Bucky had met you there, your disobedience laid bare by the neighbor who was all to happy to share how you had fallen. When you had returned from your hospital trip, it was much easier to pretend the people around you did not exist. It would no doubt be the same story, your name in the system that would put you at risk.

The water in the shower was almost unbearably hot. You stood underneath the spray, the sting of the disinfectant causing your lips to tremble while inspecting and cleaning every wound. The water slid down your face as you took a cleansing breath, fighting back the nausea that continued to roil your stomach. The hot shower beat down on your tired muscles as you moved your arms and legs, trying to keep the blood flowing and your joints moving. This was covered in basic weapons training, something you had taught over a year and could practically recite the operating guide. Take a hit and keep moving. It was good for blood flow. You wrapped your calves in tape after you sutured them shut, the teeth marks still visible on your lip from the concentration and pain as the needle passed through your skin.

Grant's room was still tidy, save for the broken doors that had splintered by Steve in his search for him. You wondered where they were, careful to not let your mind go too deep down into your psyche that was already murky. They would not be at the house. That was too obvious. You knew the layout and where the cameras were. Lifting Grant's shirt to your nose, you inhaled, fighting back the tears that began to rise up and well at the surface.

You packed a bag, stepping over broken glass to go outside, keys in hand while you opened the barn doors. They hadn't bothered to check there, your weapons still hanging up on hooks that you quickly pulled down and stuffed into a bag. They thought taking Grant would have been easy, not expecting you to fight back. You saw the surprise in Bucky's face when you had made him fall. He would not make the same mistake twice. This much you knew.

You got into the car and sat for a moment, your hands gripping the wheel as your mind suddenly figured out where they would have gone. The plan had already begun to develop when you drove down the steep hill, focused on where you would end up. Another wave of nausea gripped you and you took a deep breath.

🧨

Head down, you watched Grant play from afar. Steve's penthouse wasn't far from here, the security rivaling the Avengers facility. Bucky watched him from a distance, a smile playing on his lips as Grant ran through the playground. So incredibly fast, a mother sitting on a park bench raising an eyebrow at his speed as he ran toward his father. Another super soldier in the making.

You held the small disk in your fingers. A prototype that you had worked on with Natasha so long ago. Strong and effective, enough to buy you time to escape. You continued to watch them, father and son running together in a contest to see who would win. This little disk would only buy you moments, forever on the run until they wore you down again. Your head still throbbed and it hurt to swallow. Next time you would not be so lucky.

For now, you knew there was only one way to truly be free, slipping the disk inside your pants pocket before you started walking toward them.

Your vision blurred once you got closer, unsure if it was due to the concussion you were sure you sustained or from the emotional toll.

The force of Grant's arms around your legs knocked you down, his face filled with uncertainty while his eyes welled with tears. At the sound of his voice, you staggered forward. The danger was to not get attached to the idea of trying to create a happy family once again. You'd known better but there was a flicker of weakness, hidden among the raging headache and weary body that could give up in this moment and surrender.

You could never submit to it.

But you would pretend.

"Mommy?" he whispered against your pants. Little hands gripped your legs hard, unwilling to let go as Bucky's presence hovered over you. You fought back the shiver at his triumphant smirk while he knelt next to you, his hand caressing your cheek, soft and gentle. Almost as if he hadn't choked you days prior.

"You picked our family after all," Bucky acknowledged, ruffling Grant's hair. "Looks like you got your wish, buddy. Mommy's here to stay."

You were pulled to your feet and into his arms, Grant clinging to you both while Bucky's lips brushed against the shell of your ear as he whispered low. You pressed the lock on the car, the lights flashing the confirmation from up on the hill.

"When I'm done with you, you won't ever leave me again."

He kissed your cheek, turning to Grant as he picked up him and tossed him over his shoulder, his free hand clutching yours tightly while he pulled you along. To the outsider, a happy family heading home. To you, a mother trying to calculate how much time you had before you finished what you just placed in motion.

🧨

"Steve's on a mission with Banner," Bucky informed you as he opened the door to his bedroom. "How did you know we were here?"

You heard the distrust in his question, the silence that followed enough to make you answer as quickly as you could. "Grant's favorite park. We... we used to take him when he first started to walk."

Growing pains. A side effect of the serum that had intertwined with his DNA. Nothing any doctor could do except recommend exercise to stretch Grant's muscles.

You saw the acceptance of your answer by the way Bucky nodded, his eyes still on you while he took in the bruises.

"What's your plan now, sweetheart?"

Your body ached. It was much easier to pretend to cry when the exhaustion was beginning to take over. You hoped that was what it was.

"I want to be with my family," you whispered, wincing as you swallowed hard. Your throat still hurt. "I missed my baby."

"He missed you too. We both did."

The words did not match his expression, his gaze dropping to the wounds on your neck.

Your eyes lowered to your bare ankle. No doubt another tracker would be placed there, something much stronger and harder to get off if you tried.

"Get some sleep. We'll talk about this in the morning."

You gave a quick nod, watching him go toward the open door.

"Wait," you said quietly.

"What?"

You squeezed your eyes shut. "Are you leaving?"

He hesitated as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

"Can I see Grant?"

"He's taking a nap."

"Okay." Your voice was small.

Defeated.

You felt the slight dip in the bed, his arm gently forcing you to lay down as he held you in his arms. A flashback of a memory played in your mind, your first night over his apartment when he was sick and you had wanted to take care of him. You'd fallen asleep and woken up like this once. You'd felt protected and safe.

"I knew you would come back. I told you, I give you everything you've ever wanted. There's no reason to run." Bucky brushed back your hair and your body relaxed. Your stomach had calmed down but you knew in the morning it would return with a vengeance.

For now, you allowed his warmth and you knew sleep would come soon.

Before it did, your fingers skimmed the length of his metal arm, finding the spot where the disk would fit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the wise Caffiend said once: "racheting up the stress".


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I call this chapter: 👀
> 
> The countdown begins.

Grant was in your arms when you opened your eyes, darkness surrounding you both while you cuddled him closer. Always a deep sleeper, he barely moved when you lifted your arm from underneath him, the blood flow rushing back to your fingers. Bucky's presence was missing, your hand moving behind you to double check that he was gone.

The apartment was silent, the only sound you heard was the sound of your pants rustling while you slipped out of the bed.

You walked down the hallway, looking for any sign of him. His keys were gone and when you patted your pocket, only the disk remained. Your car keys were missing.

He'd taken the bait.

You took stock of the security system while you waited for him to return. It was a Stark invention, various features that would allow the penthouse to be bulletproofed in the event of an attack. Not that you would ever assume that he would need such a feature.

You'd disable it later, now that you had confirmed the type of system.

For now, you had to wait. You went back to the bathroom, your features washed out in the bright light. The bruise on your neck was still dark but the amount of sleep you had managed to get had re-energized you, your body not quite back to normal but enough for you to be able to fight when the time came.

A wave of nausea overtook you and you hunched over the toilet bowl, trying to keep quiet so not to wake Grant. Once it subsided, you stood up, rinsing out your mouth and opening the door to find Bucky in front of the doorway. He pinned you up against the wall, metal fingers wrapped around your throat as he closed the door behind you.

"Where did you put them, sweetheart?" Bucky's voice was low, quiet enough to not disturb Grant.

You knew exactly what he was asking.

"Put what?" you whispered, his grip beginning to tighten.

"Your weapons. I searched your car. All decoys. Where the fuck are the real ones?"

Your mouth set into a hard line. His arm lifted you slightly, putting you up on the tips of your toes. Black spots clouded your vision as you were lifted higher, his strength unmatched as your hands went to his arm, still trying to keep silent as you began to feel lightheaded. A soft wheeze left your lips, painful and choked before you kicked off the wall, your knee hitting him in the stomach.

The shock of it made him release you and you slipped back to the ground, breathing in the air deeply before you scrambled to your feet. Bucky's fighting style was a right hook, one that you dodged before you threw your entire weight into him, knocking him back up against the wall before you opened the door. Grant was awake, his eyes wide as you ran past him.

For this to work, you couldn't act on your maternal instincts. Not now.

Grant was safe.

You were not.

You felt for the disk in your pocket, Bucky reassuring Grant down the hallway while you opened and shut two doors, hiding in a linen closet. You heard his footsteps go past you, examining the first door and then his shadow as he stood across from you and the other door. So sure he could hear your beating heart, you bit down on your lips, nearly drawing blood when you heard the other door open.

You took this as your cue, opening the door slowly to see him heading toward the closet in the room. You aimed the disk at his arm, flicking it at his metal arm. The sound of the heavy magnet crackled and he shouted in pain, dropping to his knees. His arm straightened and shook, his teeth gritting while he writhed in pain, his arm going slack. The weight of him made him fall back to the ground and he looked up at you as you emerged inside the room.

"What the hell did you do to me?" he shouted, trying to upright himself. It was no use. The disk acted as a magnet, drawing power from the metal to keep it strong.

And unmovable.

With what strength you had left, you grabbed his other arm, twisting it behind him.

"Where are your keys?" you demanded, watching him still struggle.

"You just wait until I'm free," he said with a dark laugh. "I'm going to make sure you understand pain."

"You made sure to show me. All that I could have forgiven. But you took Grant from me," you countered, pulling his arm back more until you heard a snap.

"Fucking bitch!" He breathed harder than before, struggling against you as he tried to get to his knees.

"Where are your keys?! Don't make me ask you again."

You knew you weren't going to be able to do that again. Once his fracture was set, it was only a matter of time before the bones healed. You'd seen him reset broken bones before. This would be no different.

The disk had thirty minutes of power before it went out. You were at least at ten minutes by your calculations.

When he took too long to answer, you stepped on the leg that you knew you had wounded days prior. He yelled out in pain.

"Counter," he spat.

You got your feet, watching him still try to struggle before he gave up, his broken arm on his side as he glared at you.

"I'll always fucking find you. You may have some fight left but I'll take that away from you too. I wanted a good wife and that's what I'll get when I'm done with you," he called out after you.

🧨

You grabbed the keys off the counter, running into the bedroom to scoop up Grant, who was in tears.

"Mommy," he wailed, allowing you to pick him up.

"It's okay, honey, I'm here," you whispered, soothing him while you held him closer.

Fifteen more minutes until the disk would lose power. There was no time to pack. Bucky had forced your hand.

"Can you do Mommy a big favor? Like, a big favor?"

Through tear stained eyes, he nodded.

"Good, I'm glad. Can you go to the living room?"

He sniffled and nodded again, your heart breaking at his terrorized little face.

"Go there and wait for me, okay? Can you do that?"

"Yes," he answered, dashing out of the room the moment his feet hit the ground.

He made a beeline for the living room while you checked on Bucky for one last time. You got down on your knees, tears filling your eyes as he shook his head in disgust.

"I loved you," you whispered. "With everything I had. I wish you could say goodbye to Grant but I won't let you."

"I'll find you both."

You got to your feet at his dark promise.

"You won't. And it's not just the two of us. There's three."

He looked at you suspiciously.

"Make sure you tell Steve he succeeded."

Bucky's yell of anger followed you outside as you scooped up Grant and left the penthouse. You made your way into the elevator, holding Grant tight while you gave him a kiss on his forehead.

"We're going to be fine. Daddy's gonna be fine but we have to give him some space, okay?"

Grant clung to you, his little body shaking under your arms as the doors to the basement opened and you pressed the alarm on the keys, the lights lighting up as you ushered Grant into the car.

Once the car roared to life, you looked down at your watch.

Five minutes left. Once it was up, he'd call whoever he could to track you down and your window of time was narrow at it was. You had one last stop before you left the city for good.

🧨

You dug up the dirt across from the playground, pulling up the bag of weapons you'd hidden that morning before you had surrendered yourself to Bucky at the park. You tossed the bag in the trunk and changing the plates before you took off once more.

The first part of your plan had worked.

You didn't dare turn your phone back on but you needed help.

Once you were in a secure location, you'd reach out to the one person you knew would help. The chain reaction of it would be swift.

For now, you'd get to your second safe house and lay low. It was of utmost importance that you did.

Bucky was bad.

Steve was much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No victory quite yet...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grant exhibits his strength.
> 
> No one can hide from the super soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember I said there is no victory quite yet...

There were levels of pain you expected.

The bruising of your neck, so sore that even a breath made you wince, was one level that you could manage.

Your calves healing from the wounds, another level of pain that could be pushed through, even as the pain shot up your legs while you carried Grant up the stairs to yet another compound you'd secured.

This emotional toll, the tiredness and stress from running and never fully being able to sleep had finally taken over, your cries muffled against the pillow that you held to your face in the darkness. It was a moment to acknowledge you had been through more than the average person and you were still going.

There was a small part of you that almost longed for the days of when it had been simpler, when Bucky was overprotective, before Steve had decided to show up and remind his best friend of what life could be like if he exerted control. Bucky had tested his limits, his words seemingly echoing Steve's when they would return from their missions, his distrust of the world growing ever deeper. You had never been dependent on anyone before him and now you could almost trace back to when it had all started to fall apart, when you could have taken an out and never looked back. Love had kept you invested. It was ignorance and the dark hope that he would change that kept you there.

He'd given his son Steve's middle name, another anchor to keep you close and strengthen the emotional bond. You'd remembered the look of joy on Steve's face, cradling your newborn in his arms, looking at him as if he was his own son. A man that time had forgotten, lives lived that had surpassed him while he had been under the ice had been given a second chance at life. You'd always hoped he would settle down, scouting out your colleagues in search of the perfect match, only to find out that you had caught his eye.

The bruises Steve had obtained before they had taken Grant had confirmed what you had known. Bucky's only link to a different time, a 'better time' Steve had once mused to you while you were making coffee in the break room, was Steve. No one else could understand what it meant to commiserate over how much time had changed, the friendship that had stood the test of time. There was simply no one else like Steve who would understand all that he had gone through. Loyalty, you had learned, had to be earned by both of them.

Which is why your refusal to abide by their rules had caused such an uproar.

You'd been naive, yes, but you were smart. Years of training as a weapons specialist had helped you get to this point and you were glad for it. Even if your soul was tired and you didn't want to keep fighting.

There hadn't been time to mourn over the loss of leaving Bucky because you were well aware that he would find you eventually. You'd hope that you were in a better place, mentally and physically stronger than you were now. It was ridiculous to wish that things had been different, even now as you angrily wiped your tears and placed the cold compress to your neck to get relief.

You loaded the bullets into the chamber slowly, the moon as your only light while you worked quickly. It wasn't a matter of if Steve would come.

It was a matter of when.

🧨

Your senses were on high alert while you watched Grant run, disappearing into the darkness of the trees while you called out to him, reminding him to stay close. When he didn't answer, your heartbeat quickened while you tried to keep your voice even.

He appeared behind a tree trunk, giggling to himself as you saw something in his hand.

"Look what I can do," Grant boasted, flinging something quickly from his hand. Whatever it was, you heard the loud sound of the object hitting a tree. Grant disappeared once more to retrieve whatever he had thrown and you followed behind him.

His small hand closed over the metal ball and you looked at the sizeable gash on the tree while he examined his toy. He was much stronger than you had realized. With the right amount of force, the ball could cause a serious injury. Maybe worse.

"Where did you get that, honey?"

"Uncle Steve gave it to me." Grant's voice took a turn of mistrust while he held it behind his back. "It's mine."

He was smart. This wasn't the first time you'd taken something like this away from him. He'd watched Bucky clean his knives one night, eyes wide in awe while you tried to corral him back to his room after he had broken the door handle. He'd gotten his hands on a plastic knife, declaring himself to be like 'his Daddy'. Wrestling it away from had cost you a sprained finger and tears from Grant, who had tried to kiss it better.

"It's a nice gift," you began, still monitoring where you stood for any intruders before you smiled at your son. "But we can't hurt the trees, okay? Can you put it in your pocket for me, please?"

He seemed to relax for a moment, shoving the ball into his pocket while he climbed over a log.

"I miss Daddy and Uncle Steve," he announced, kicking up a spray of dirt before he took off running again in the opposite direction of where you were standing.

"Grant!" you called out behind him, hearing a heavy thud and his cry of pain.

When you reached him, he was nursing his left hand, tears streaming down his face. His knees were scraped up, caked with leaves and dirt while he held up his hand. You took one look at his pinky finger and knew it was broken. You could reset it yourself but you knew he wasn't going to let you touch him when he was in pain.

This meant a trip to the ER.

You'd be found within the hour. Maybe less, depending on how heavily you were being tracked.

"It's okay, honey," you tried to soothe, watching him stare at it carefully. With a determined stare, he twisted his finger back into place and let out a loud wail. Your mouth was agape while he ran into your arms and cried.

"I saw Daddy do it," Grant hiccuped against your neck. "It hurt."

You were certain he'd just reset his own break. You scooped him up in your arms, Grant clinging to you while you made it back to the car. He let you inspect his hand while you supplied him with praise, his chest puffing out with pride when you called him brave. You'd wrap it up when you got back to the house and he would be fine.

But your hands still shook when you gripped the steering wheel at the thought of how strong he was becoming and he was only four. While you pulled out of the parking lot, you were aware of the long stare of the state trooper that had waved you off, your eyes watching him take stock of the license plate before he nodded.

You trusted your instinct to know that you needed to get home immediately and change the plates.

🧨

Grant sported a new finger splint that he admired while he was eating his dinner. You turned to your laptop, waiting for the person on the other end to answer your call.

You didn't have to wait long.

A pair of blue eyes stared back at you in the screen, a frown set on full lips while you nodded in agreement. Not the predicament you ever wanted to find yourself in but you knew there were eyes everywhere and you couldn't risk Bucky or Steve taking him away from you again.

"Are you sure about this?"

The question hung in the air, waiting for your answer. You were sure. At least he'd be safe.

"Yes." You felt a lump form in your throat, your eyes filling with tears. "Positive."

"I'll be there within the hour."

You looked over at Grant, who was playing with his toys before you turned back around to face the camera.

"We'll be waiting."

When the screen cut out, you got your feet, heading into Grant's room to pack a bag. With every folded shirt, your mind wandered to how much time you would have after your help came. Joining them was not practical. Not yet, at least.

This had required planning and you weren't going to let any alliances get in the way. There was only one person you could truly trust at this time to see your plan through if you did not make it out.

You zipped up the bag and placed it near the door, cleaning up his plate and washing the dishes like nothing was out of the ordinary. You dried each dish by hand, watching the time go by while Grant sat on the couch, quietly watching cartoons.

You had remembered the trooper's face and his name tag, searching who he was while Grant started to doze off.

A former SHIELD employee. You'd been correct with your instinct. There really were eyes and ears everywhere. Right as the hour hit, you opened the door, face to face with your savior.

"We don't have much time. I started getting tracked ten minutes after I left the city."

You cuddled Grant while you picked him up, his eyes fluttering open to see the familiar face holding his bag.

"Aunt Natasha!" Grant crooned, reaching for her while she collected him into her arms, placing a kiss on his forehead.

"Hey kiddo. You're going to come stay with me for a little. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Grant nodded enthusiastically, throwing his arms around her neck while Natasha frowned.

"Rethink this idea. Come with us."

You shook your head. You both had planned this out. There would be no going back.

"Like we promised," you reminded her. "They'll never let me go. I'll keep running. You said yourself you're being tracked."

"You know Steve likes to keep tabs on us," Natasha countered. "Our window is closing."

You smoothed back Grant's hair and kissed his cheek.

"I'll come see you in a few days, okay? Be good for Aunt Natasha."

He beamed at you. "Promise Mommy."

Natasha slipped the bag over her shoulder, hugging you tightly with Grant in the middle.

"Like we promised," Natasha repeated. "You call me at the first sign of trouble."

"I will," you promised, watching her slip out the door with your son in tow and into the darkness.

You closed the door behind you, repeating to yourself that this was the plan and that you had to finish what you started. It didn't hurt any less to think about being away from Grant. This would be the only way he would be safe, away from harm and away from what you knew was heading your way.

🧨

You woke with a start, gripping your belly while you kept still, your heart thudding inside your chest. You'd fallen asleep with your door open, the darkness like a void while you tried to adjust your eyes to the darkness you'd found yourself in.

A flash of metal flew past you and above your head, Steve's shield embedded in the dry wall that rained down on you as it crumbled. You scrambled to your feet as you saw him come into view, still in his uniform while he blocked you by standing in the doorway.

"Hi sweetheart," Steve greeted you. "Long time no see."

You backed up a step, the gun still under the pillow, out of reach at the moment. It was cruel irony to see him in his uniform, most likely fresh off of a mission where he no doubt saved lives and now he was here, ready to subjugate you. He removed the cowl, tossing it onto the ground while his eyes went to your middle.

"We made a baby after all," Steve affirmed, running a hand through his hair. "Though I don't appreciate you putting Bucky in the hospital. Whatever that disk was, it took out him out of commission for at least two weeks."

You lifted your neck to show off Bucky's marks.

"My specifications were off. It should have been longer," you replied, watching Steve's face darken with anger.

"He's always been soft when it came to you."

You took another step back, looking at the shield on the wall. You'd calibrated his shields before. Tested them and thrown them yourself.

Which was why you had no trouble pulling it from the wall and thrown it in his direction before he had a chance to react, the vibranium hitting him in the middle of the chest with a force that you were surprised you had. It knocked him off of his feet and you reached for the gun, holding it steady as you watched him grab the shield and get to his feet. He laughed at you while he studied the gun.

"Go ahead," he urged. "Shoot me."

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" your voice came out in a plea, nearly a whimper as you kept the gun on him. Your voice may have cracked but you refused to cry.

"We had a pact, him and I," Steve began, pushing out his chest so that you could have a better target. "We find a girl we like, we'd share. I found out quickly that when it came to you, he didn't want to share. I was already too far in with you, watching you from afar, getting close but not where I wanted to be. Now you've got my baby inside you. You were always going to be his. But now you're mine too."

When he took a step closer, you fired at the floor. You shuddered at the sound, your heart beating inside your chest like a jackhammer.

"So high strung. You need to rest."

"Shut up!" you shouted, shaking your head. "Don't take another step."

"Where's Grant? He wasn't in his room."

"I mean it," you replied, ignoring his question.

"Natasha has him, doesn't she? Or maybe it's Banner? Both have been off the grid for some time, I'd have to imagine that you reached out for help. A boy needs his father."

He took another step and you fired again, narrowly missing his foot.

"Who took Grant? Tell me."

"I'm not telling you a goddamn thing," you spat, his eyes watching you carefully.

"Language, sweetheart. I'm sure our baby can hear you."

You backed up once more, hitting the wall.

Trapped.

If you were more agile, you could have ducked underneath the bed. But not now.

He reached for the gun, the shot firing into at his shoulder as you saw blood begin to seep out of his uniform, his hand ripping the gun away as he tossed it away. He winced at the wound but pinned you against the wall, ignoring your death stare.

"You've always been so good with guns. I gotta remember that," he breathed through the pain. "Did you think you'd get away so easily?"

You let out a yelp of pain as he slapped you across the face, tears of pain filling your eyes.

"I'm not Bucky. Your little tricks won't work on me. You're coming home with me and you're staying put. You try to run, I put you in chains. Not the best I'd want to treat the mother of my child but you force my hand and I'll do it," Steve promised, watching you hold your cheek as you looked at the ground. "I know. You hate me. Probably wishing the gun wasn't that far away, otherwise you'd shoot me. I've been doing this a long time, sweetheart. You can't faze me."

You pulled your hand away from your face, anger taking over and you shoved him with all of your strength as he tossed you onto the bed with such a force that you bounced on top of the mattress before he straddled you, pinning your arms over your head as you turned your face away from him.

"Such a fighter. I've always loved that about you. I loved watching you on those obstacle courses when we'd be done with briefings. You were such a rare find," Steve praised, tightening his grip on your wrists as you winced in pain. "I'm going to tame this disobedient streak out of you that Bucky couldn't. Look at me."

You ignored him, squeezing your eyes shut as he grabbed your chin and forced your head toward him.

"Open your eyes or I'll make sure you'll spot more marks on you than Bucky gave you."

You looked at him with disgust as he nodded approvingly.

"We're going home. I'm going to let you up and you're not going to run. Otherwise that shield is going to cut you down and I don't want hurt the baby. We don't want that, do we?"

You shook your head, looking down at your feet. Submissive enough, you had hoped, so that he would let you up. Your fingers went to the small remote under the blankets, sight unseen from him while he peered down at you.

"Are you going to be a good girl?"

"Yes."

It was a one worded answer but enough to appease him as he got up and hauled you to his side. You pressed the button twice, letting the remote drop between the pillows as you tossed it behind you. He pushed you toward the door, the red light flashing under the TV that confirmed the press of your remote.

He settled you into his car, pulling the seat belt over you as it clicked into the chamber. It would be a long drive back to his place, which gave you enough time to plan your next move.

🧨

You hadn't accounted for the cable that was tethered to your ankle, the steel link cuffed against your skin while you gingerly rose from the bed, pulling down your nightshirt to cover your thighs that were slick with his cum. He had not been gentle when he got you inside the house, your brain going into overdrive at the thought of what would happen if you were not successful. You'd gotten lost in your thoughts, giving him enough room to knock you onto your back. No amount of fighting worked, his cock pushing up inside of you without warning. He held you down as he gave slow but hard punishing strokes, stealing your breath with every movement as you cursed him silently. It was a means to control, the way he finished, staying inside you as he warned you once more of what would happen if you tried to leave.

For you, it was a matter of when and not if.

You grimaced at the pain that shot between your thighs as you made your way to the bathroom. He'd drawn a bath for you, waiting for you patiently to strip out of the nightshirt so that he could help you into the tub. There was a fine line you had to walk while you settled down into the warm water.

"There we go. Warm water should ease your muscles."

You stared straight ahead as he knelt down to wash you, your mind going to the controls on the alarm system and back to the tether, which Steve had removed momentarily to let you take a bath. His hand slid down your belly to the growing bump. He kept his hand there for a moment, fingers splayed over your skin.

"He'll be nice and strong," Steve said to you, moving the washcloth to your back. "Just like Grant."

The water sloshed as he scrubbed against your chest, his hands cupping your breasts. "Can't wait to see you breastfeed our child."

You had to stay calm, submissive and obedient to keep him from knowing what you planned to do. You'd hidden what weapons of Bucky's you'd found in Steve's room when you'd gone to look for Bucky the night he had left.

Steve helped you stand, covering you with a towel as he picked up you and placed you on the counter, drying you off carefully like a doll. Like he hadn't abused you prior. You didn't have your arsenal.

Not yet.

You let him dry you off completely before he helped you into a clean nightshirt, toweling off your wet hair as he went to retrieve the cuff. By now, the feed from Steve's room from the camera you'd placed there days earlier should have reached Natasha. Enough footage to show him holding you down, amid your tears and struggling.

You heard him coming back, whistling to himself while you reached under the counter to find the taped knife. You only had one chance to get this right and you kept your head down as he came in with the cuff.

"Please," you began quietly. "I won't run."

"I wish I could believe that," Steve answered, patting his thigh for you to assist him. "Foot."

The placement had to be perfect to miss any major organs. Super soldier or not, he could still bleed out and for the moment, you needed him alive.

You placed your foot on his thigh before it slipped off and you slid to the ground, innocent enough before you wedged the knife into his stomach. The shock and pain registered on his face as he howled loudly before you removed the knife and plunged it back into him.

"That's for taking Grant away from me," you hissed.

And then you ran, your feet still slick from the lotion he had applied while you made your way to the security system, punching in the numbers that you knew would disable it as you opened the door. You reset the alarm with another code and slammed the door, running down the hallway to the stairs, closing the door quietly before you descended the staircase, going down three flights of stairs before you went into another hallway.

Beads of perspiration dotted your brow while you went to another staircase, the sound of an alarm bleating out high above you.

When you reached the next floor, you went into the stairwell and waited to hear or see any sign of him. When it was quiet, you continued going down the stairs, gripping the railing tight. You entered through another hallway and took the opposite elevator down to the ground floor. You silently prayed that he wouldn't find you, you had no weapons left and you were sure that the police would be on their way, if not there already.

At this revelation, when the doors to the elevator opened, you ran backwards toward the subterranean parking lot, where you ran right into Natasha. At the sound of you both colliding, you burst into tears as she held you.

"Almost there, just hang on," Natasha whispered fiercely, pushing you outside the door to a waiting car.

A shield broke through the glass window right as you were pushed into the backseat and the car shot forward. You heard your name being shouted as Natasha looked behind her, her gun trained on the backseat window.

You wiped away your tears, realizing that for the first time in a long while, you were safe at the moment.

Protected.

"I got the feed. We're going to upload it once we get back." Natasha chewed on her lip. "When I do it, everyone's gonna know. Are you sure you want to go through with this? We can get an attorney, something -"

"No," you answered. "They won't stop. Not with that, not with a restraining order. I have to finish it."

"You're pregnant. There's other ways to deal with this instead of putting yourself in harm's way. I can finish it. I wish I had known before..." Natasha trailed off, shaking her head as her lip trembled. "I didn't know they were monsters. I'm so sorry. I don't have to upload it if you don't want to. "

"No, I want them to see who they truly are."

"Bucky's not getting out anytime soon. I was able to take care of that when they found him on the floor. I'm sure charges will come once we get a better look at your injuries. As for Steve... you know how Tony is."

"I know," you answered, aware of what she was implying. "Whatever happens, I want to make sure I end it."

Natasha sighed and leaned back in her seat.

"Well, for now, all you can do is rest."

You would allow a repose for the day but you knew that once the footage was uploaded, there would be no time to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second battle down!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One last card to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without spoiling it, there's a scene in here that seems pretty graphic BUT I assure you that it is not what it appears to be.
> 
> You'll see when you get to it.
> 
> Remember, there is always a plan.

"It's my understanding that the agency is holding Bucky for as long as they can to finish their investigation."

Natasha paused for a moment as you cradled the burner phone to your ear, waiting for the crushing disappointment of her next piece of news. Hope was a desire you had stopped entertaining years ago. Now you dealt in facts.

It was what had kept you a step ahead of them.

"Steve's time to turn himself in passed an hour ago."

"So what does that mean?" You knew what it meant, but you wanted to hear it anyway.

"It means they could declare a manhunt. It doesn't look like that is going to happen, judging by my intel."

You nodded, knowing that she could not see your face.

You'd gone missing by reporters, helicopters circling your long abandoned home, with your neighbors putting on dramatic performances about where you could have gone. Various agents, bowing their heads in sadness and tears, hoping that you and Grant would be found safe and assured the public that Bucky was a wonderful father and husband.

You were not surprised, knowing that the footage that was sent to SHIELD, Stark and a few news organizations. It had been splashed on the news, statements on teleprompters using carefully curated statements and coded language. The "alleged" clip of your assault was being researched for authenticity and SHIELD would not comment on any allegations, nor would Stark comment.

There was a reason for their silence.

They were scrambling to contain the firestorm you'd unleashed. No doubt looking to find Steve and craft another narrative to bury the allegations. Bucky was most likely given options, thought you weren't sure what any of those would be.

The damage had already begun.

"I'm sorry," Natasha apologized quietly. "I know this isn't the outcome you wanted."

"Does Tony know?" That was the only question you felt that you could ask without your emotions taking over, your other hand curled into a tight fist, your fingernails digging into your skin.

"I have to assume he does. They haven't played the clip, even with it being censored. I can't hack into the systems at the moment, either. I think our best bet is our second plan. We get you out there and we move you to a safer location. Security around the clock, just like I promised."

No one truly understood that you would never be free. Not like this.

"And if they find me there?"

"Then we fight," Natasha replied fiercely. "We'll protect you."

Your eyes went to the monitors, watching for any sign of Steve like you had been for the last few weeks. Something told you that he was close to finding you. You'd prepared as much as you could but there was not much more you could do in your condition.

"I don't want to put anyone in danger," you replied.

"You and the baby are in danger. Especially now. If Steve comes, he's -"

"I know."

She didn't need to remind you of what he could do.

You rubbed your swollen belly, holding onto the phone tightly while you worked up the courage to tell Natasha your plan.

"I need you to trust me," you began.

"No," came Natasha's reply, short and angry. "You can't do this. I won't let you. Grant's safe, he's with me and Bruce. I'm coming to get you right now."

"Natasha -"

"Goddamn it, you're not doing this. Are you crazy? Think of the baby. Think of yourself."

"That's why I'm doing it," you countered. "It's the only way. Give me twenty-four hours and then you come get me, okay?"

"And if Steve overpowers you and takes you away? Or they let Bucky go? Then what?"

"Then you find me," you answered, your eyes back on the monitors as you spied movement in one of the cameras. "I'll call you back."

"Don't you dare hang -"

You opened the door to the small house, stepping outside to see Steve, your hand on your belly while he came closer. He'd changed clothes, a simple black t-shirt, jeans and a pair of boots. Enough to blend in with the crowd. That was most likely how he was able to slip away.

Even from where you were standing, you saw the determined look in his eye and you were aware you only had one shot.

"Did you think that little stunt was going to keep me away? That people would believe you?"

"They deserved to know the truth."

"Public trust is sacred. They'll never turn against me. You know that."

You fought back tears. Years of fighting, pain and fear all rolled back into you.

"I'll never win," you admitted slowly.

"You won't," Steve agreed. "Look at you. Almost ready to pop. Out here all alone."

"Safer here than with you or Bucky."

He scoffed at your answer.

"You don't know your place. You never have. Do you think Bucky would let you go? You're a housewife. Stay at home, raise the kids. That's how it used to be."

"That's not me," you countered, watching him take another step closer.

"I'm trying to temper my patience with you before I do something I regret."

You shifted your feet to the left, watching him follow in kind. Almost like a dance.

"You can't outrun me. You couldn't before and you can't now. What's it going to be, sweetheart?"

You reached behind your back, pulling out one of your small knives.

"Don't make me do something I'll regret," Steve warned, eyeing your weapon. "Make this easy on yourself."

"I can't," you answered, flinging the knife behind him as it hit a tree, exposing the scrim.

The trap you had set had worked, the ground he was on disintegrating under his feet as he fell. It wasn't deep enough for him to be stuck but it was enough time for you to get inside the house and barricade yourself. You heard him shout in anger while you slammed the door, sliding the deadbolts before you hurried into the next room.

You slid the deadbolt on that door before you turned around and took a deep breath. Your weapons surrounded you, ready to be utilized at any moment.

But not now. You had to do the opposite.

You picked up the suitcase, a tear running down your cheek. You placed the knife you had selected behind your back, tucked into your pants before you heard the sound of breaking glass. Your name was shouted so loud that it almost seemed like the door shook.

"I don't want to break down this door," Steve said against it.

"You'll hurt me," you protested.

"I won't if you come out."

"Do you promise?" Your voice was shaky, your breath hitching in your throat.

"I promise. Just come out. We'll figure it out."

You rested your head against the door.

One chance.

That was all you had left.

You opened the door, your eyes lifting up to his as you gave him a defeated stare.

"Better," he affirmed. "What's that?"

You dragged your suitcase against the floor to show him.

"You packed," he realized. "Is that what you were doing?"

You stared at the floor while he looked inside the room behind you, giving a low whistle of appreciation.

"That's where you've been hiding the weapons," he commented, reaching for the suitcase. "Bucky will be glad to have them back."

He grabbed your hand and you fought against the feeling of wanting to pull away before you conceded and followed behind.

"Steve, wait," you whimpered, your feet planted on the ground before he looked over his shoulder.

"What?"

"When we get home, you're going to hurt me, aren't you?" You chewed on your lip slowly to keep your lip from trembling.

"Is that what you're afraid of? I'm not gonna hurt you, sweetheart. I want to keep you and our baby safe. Then you'll tell me where Grant is and we'll bring him home."

You skirted around the kitchen island counter to the opposite side. He placed the suitcase down, frowning at you.

"Now what?"

"Bucky isn't mad?"

Steve sighed. "No. He was. He's over it now."

You wrung your hands over your belly. "But I left."

"Let's go." Steve's patience had run out and you reached behind your back, your fingers wrapping around the hilt of the knife before you felt under the counter for the button you had installed a month earlier.

"You don't deserve this baby, Steve."

His eyes lowered to your belly, where you held the knife against your belly. His eyes went wide.

"What are you doing?"

"You'll always be connected to me. Even when I don't want you to be. This the only way."

He started toward you before you plunged the knife in, his roar of anguish piercing your ears as you pressed the button as you fell to your knees, the heavy metal plank dropping from the ceiling and knocking him off his feet and crushing him against the wall, the magnet sticking to the metal that was inside the walls. He struggled against it while you dropped the knife, shaking as you tried to control your breathing.

"I swear to God when I get out of this, I'll kill you!"

"You... didn't... deserve him," you managed, crawling away as you held your stomach. "It was the only way."

Steve continued to fight, trying to push the magnet away from his body while he watched you crawl away, tears sliding down his face.

"You're a murderer!"

You pulled yourself up, nausea roiling your stomach as you opened the door, the sound of his anguished cry behind you while you ran, putting enough space between Steve before you removed the heavy silicone prosthetic from your middle and threw it on the ground, wiping the artificial blood onto your pants as you rested against a tree, cradling your still growing belly.

"We're safe. We're okay," you whispered, looking behind you.

Even now, you were second guessing yourself. It was time to finish what you started. You dialed a number you'd kept on speed dial.

"Are you safe?" the voice asked, picking up on the first ring.

"He's inside the house," you confirmed, still watching it from afar.

"On it."

You heard silence on the other end and hung up the phone, continuing to walk until you saw the familiar car pull up. Natasha opened the door, watching you slide into the seat.

"Banner will take him to the facility," Natasha informed you, as the tires squealed against the pavement while she looked over at you. "Fuck, is that blood?"

"It's fake," you managed, still looking out the window. "I made it myself."

"You did it. Holy shit, you did it."

You smiled before the tears finally came, a mixture of relief, sadness and fear as you sobbed. Natasha pulled over to the side, her arms around you as you shook and cried into her shoulder. Your heart ached for Grant, you wanted to hold him and never let him go.

"It's okay," Natasha supplied, rubbing your back slowly. "Let it out. This is years of twisted behavior. Steve will get what is coming to him."

You couldn't tell her what you'd done, taking away the dream he had been chasing after for years. You felt a strong kick, gasping at the pain and you rubbed your belly, trying to soothe your baby. One day you'd tell them the truth about their father, when they were old enough to understand.

🧨

You rubbed the small of your back, trying to get relief while you struggled to get up from the chair you had been sitting in. Grant rushed in front of you, holding out his hands.

"I'll help you, Mommy," he said cheerfully, pulling on you as you tried to lift up. As strong as he was, it worked and you got to your feet, wincing slightly at the tinge of pain. Braxton Hicks were no walk in the park, especially feeling it almost triple due to the serum.

"Thank you. You are my hero," you praised, watching him giggle and run away. His protectiveness had increased since you had been reunited, always curious about his unborn sibling. He liked to read to your belly, pressing his ear against your bump to listen. They were all you needed now.

Banner had moved Steve to a secure facility, away from prying eyes and media coverage. Stark had seen to that, still unsure of how the public would react to who Captain America really was. Stark had kept tabs on you, protective and apologetic but keeping his distance.

That was all you could ask for.

But Bucky had laid low, being released from the agency's custody weeks after Steve had been placed into the facility, a sentence handed down that was kept under wraps. Yet, you knew that eventually you'd have to face Bucky and he would find your vulnerability, like he always did and you were unsure if you would be able to handle it. Steve weighed heavily on your mind. With every doctor's appointment, ultrasound and folding of baby clothes inside a drawer, you ignored the guilt that would creep up from time to time.

For now, all you could do was wait. You watched Grant dip his hand into paint and press it onto a piece of butcher paper. Bruce had taught him how to make hand turkeys and now he was hooked. There was hardly enough space left to hang up another one of his creations but you didn't have it in your heart to tell him no. He was your peace and you needed that.

At the knock of the door, you froze. Natasha and Bruce had keys and no one was supposed to know where you were. Grant looked up at you at the sound.

"Not yet, sweetie," you whispered, knowing he wanted to be helpful.

You put your finger to your lips, getting up from the table to look through the peephole.

There was nothing there.

"Honey, why don't you go wash up and go play with your toys inside your room, okay?"

Grant dashed away to do what you had asked and you thanked your lucky stars that he was such an amicable child. Your heart slammed into your chest as your mind wandered to the possibilities. There was only one that you kept going back to.

You leaned against the door for a moment until you finally moved away from it and reached for the bottles of paint when you heard the knock again. You swallowed hard, slowly twisting the caps back onto the bottles. You tiptoed back to the door to see metal covering the peephole.

"Sweetheart, open the door," Bucky lamented. "Please."

"You aren't supposed to be here," you replied, loud enough for him to hear.

"Open the door. I don't want to make a scene."

"Make one," you called out, frantically looking around the living room to find something to arm yourself with.

🧨

When the door burst open, Grant reached him, throwing himself into his father's arms.

"Hey buddy," Bucky greeted him, his voice wavering as he held him tight. "It's been too long."

"Where did you go, Daddy?" Grant asked innocently, his arms still around his father's neck as Bucky searched for you, still holding Grant.

"I had to go fight some bad guys. Where's Mommy?"

"Hiding," Grant said in a sing-song voice.

"Should we find her?"

You held your breath, watching Grant go past you as he ran into your bedroom.

"Is she in there?" Bucky called out, following behind his son.

At this, you went toward Grant's room.

"No!" Grant answered. "Maybe... bathroom."

You heard the shower curtain being pulled back as Grant laughed.

"No Mommy."

You covered your mouth while a swift kick made you gasp, Grant running back into the living room.

"Mommy likes to hide behind the curtains, Daddy," he urged.

Bucky followed behind him.

"She couldn't have gotten that far, Grant. Are you sure Mommy's hiding in here?"

"Yes, Daddy."

You crept past Bucky and back into your bedroom. You grabbed a shoe and tossed it down the hallway.

"What the hell was that?" you heard Bucky ask.

You hid inside the closet, a sliver of space just enough for you to see him enter the bedroom.

"Where are you hiding, honey? Did you think I was going to let you go?" he asked loudly, your eyes watching his black combat boots as he turned around. "I'm never letting out of my sight again."

He went toward the bathroom once more, coming out with a look of anger on his face.

"I'll rip this place apart if I have to."

The closet door was nearly ripped off the hinges as he looked straight at you, his chest heaving with his deep breaths. He went for your neck once more before you blocked him, stabbing him the hip with your other hand. He dropped to his knees as you pulled it out, plunging it into his abdomen as he fell back his back, his steel blue eyes wide in surprise and shock. Still strong, you pressed the blade into his metal arm, his free hand pulling at your hair while you pinned down his legs.

"You keep trying to dismantle me. I'll keep coming back for you. Always," he said, blood covering his teeth as he twisted his hand around your hair and you cried out in pain.

"I don't want to love you anymore," you sobbed, both your hands shoving the blade down into the arm, severing it. You held the blade up, almost ready to plunge it into his heart.

"You wanna kill me? You can't do it, can you? Deep down, you know I'm always going to love you. No one can replace me in your life. Not even Steve."

You cried, shaking your head as you lowered the blade in your hand right as Natasha reached you. You heard a gunshot and Bucky's howl of pain as he gripped his thigh. You were lifted from on top of him, placed in Bruce's arms as Natasha pulled him up, slamming him against the wall.

"You couldn't leave her alone, could you? You track her and I track you. We both learned the same things in the Red Room, didn't we?" Natasha spat, her fingers pressing his head against the wall.

"You can put me away but I'll get out. She's not meant for this, Natasha. This world is dangerous, she needs me. My son needs me."

"You're dangerous, Barnes."

Bruce ushered you into Grant's room, letting you cry as Grant broke through the apartment and into his room at the sound of your cries.

"Mommy!"

He held you close, almost stifling you as two agents appeared at the door.

"I'm sorry Doctor Banner, he's strong. We pulled him away but he broke through."

Bruce held up his hand and nodded.

"I know. You did what you could. Thank you. We'll be escorting Barnes out shortly."

"Of course," one of the agents said, before they turned to exit the room.

You smoothed back Grant's hair, his arms around your belly as you cuddled him closer.

"It'll be okay, Mommy. You have me. I'm a hero, remember?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to thank that one scene in Taking Lives for inspiration.
> 
> We have the epilogue left...


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A court order a few years later means facing Bucky and Steve once more.

You watched Bucky be escorted down to you, two guards flanking him on either side while he took a seat, the thick plexiglass separating you as he picked up the receiver.

“Hi sweetheart. Long time no see,” he commented, his steel blue eyes traveling down your body. “You look good.”

“I would have been gone longer if Stark hadn’t issued a court order,” you replied, noting the nod of acknowledgement and the beginnings of a smirk on his lips.

“I missed you.”

You stayed silent. His hair had grown long again, almost down to his shoulders. His arm had been repaired, resting against the counter while he waited for you to reciprocate his sentiment.

“I’m supposed to be here for ten minutes at the minimum,” you reminded him.

“That’s more than enough time. I said I missed you. You don’t miss me?”

“What do you want me to say? I barely made it out alive,” you shot back, your hands beginning to shake.

Bucky scoffed at your comment.

“You seem fine to me where I’m sitting,” he countered, leaning in closer. “But you still refuse to answer my question. Which brings me to my next question. That night at your apartment. You could have killed me right then but you didn’t. Why?”

You remembered that night vividly. Even now, you fought against the thought that crept back inside your mind.

“I’ve had enough time in here, as you can imagine. All that free time makes me think that I was right. You didn’t want me to die. You still love me.”

Your eyes shifted downward.

“Look at me.”

You couldn’t. Court ordered visits were a minimum of ten minutes. You had four more minutes until you could pick yourself up and leave.

“No,” you whispered, keeping your attention on the counter in front of you.

“Where’s my son?”

“Outside.”

“I want to see him.”

You lifted yourself out of your chair, heading to the door and opening it, motioning for Grant to come toward you. He’d grown taller. Stronger.

Protective.

Grant took your seat while you watched from a safe distance, observing the long glance father and son shared. It was one of a mutual respect, Bucky nodding in approval while Grant picked up the receiver.

“You’ve grown up,” Bucky greeted him, unable to hide the emotion in his voice.

Grant gripped the receiver, trying to commit his father’s face to memory. It had been years since he’d seen him, before he was hauled away.

“Hi Dad,” Grant replied.

“When this is all over, I’ll come see you at your baseball practice. Uncle Tony said you’ve got a mean swing.”

At the praise, Grant nodded proudly. “That’s what coach says too.”

“That’s good,” Bucky agreed, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. “That’s real good.”

“When are you getting out of here?”

Bucky shrugged, glancing over at you with a smile.

“Hopefully soon. It wasn’t looking good for a little but maybe if I’m lucky, in a year or so. Less if Uncle Tony works his magic.”

“Uncle Bruce doesn’t think so.”

Bucky’s smile faded.

“Uncle Bruce told you that?”

“I heard it,” Grant replied, his gaze just as intense as his father’s own. “Something bad happened to Mom, didn’t it?”

You placed your arms on Grant’s shoulders, his head lifting up as his eyes met yours.

“Why don’t you head back outside. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” you promised, watching Grant continue to watch his father while he got up, giving him a respectful nod before he disappeared.

You picked up the receiver, watching the anger building on Bucky’s face.

“What did you tell him about me?” he demanded.

“They forget he’s the son of a super soldier at times. His hearing is immaculate.”

Bucky shook his head, his metal fingers curling into a fist.

“You’re pitting him against me.”

“I don’t need to,” you replied quietly. “You did that on your own.”

“It won’t matter when I get out. He’ll know what it means to have both his mother and father around. It’s not natural to not have a father figure around.”

“He has Bruce.”

The heavy thump of his fist on the counter make you jump, until you realized you were on the other side of the glass.

“That freak of nature hardly counts as a role model.” Bucky paused, trying to calm himself. “I’m getting ahead of myself. It doesn’t matter.”

“My time is up,” you announced, pulling back your chair.

“Wait,” Bucky protested. “Just gimme a minute.”

“You’ve had fifteen.”

Still, you didn’t move from your spot.

“Before you go, tell me the truth. You said you didn’t want to love me anymore. You still do.”

You swallowed hard, looking at your bare ring finger. You could have had so much more. A life outside of this. A happy and healthy relationship, filled with love and the opposite of where you had found yourself now.

“Yes,” you whispered into the receiver, hating that your voice was small. “Because I always will.”

“I knew it.” He sounded so confident, your hands shaking once again.

“I know I’ll never stop loving you.” A tear ran down your cheek as you finally looked him in the eye. “That’s why I have to disappear.”

“I’ll find you. I always do.”

You smiled sadly at his fervent reply.

“Not this time. I hope you got a good look at Grant because that’s the last time you’ll see him again. Once I leave this facility, we’re essentially off the grid. It took a while but we are officially стертый.”

At the word, he shot up from his chair, his eyes wide with shock.

“No,” Bucky sputtered, watching you stand up. “That’s impossible.”

“Friends in high places.”

You heard him shout your name before the guards rushed out to him, closing the door behind you.

🧨

Steve was waiting for you, a frown upon his lips. He’d noticed your red rimmed eyes while you picked up the receiver.

“Emotional day for you.”

You nodded.

“It’s a miracle Tony was able to pull this off and actually have you come here. It’s been over three years and I still can’t forgive you for what you’ve done, let alone the fact you got zero jail time.”

You inched up your chin, Steve’s look of disgust almost making you shiver.

“You’ll never forgive me.”

He sneered at you, his voice so low it was almost a growl.

“Never. You took the one thing I wanted away from me.”

“I did,” you acknowledged, watching his fingers grip the receiver so tight that you swore it would break.

The door opened slowly and you held out your arms to the tiny figure that made its way over to you. You settled him in your lap, the receiver dropping from Steve’s grip and clattering onto the counter.

James cuddled against you, giving a wary stare at the stranger on the other side of the glass. Strong just like his brother, James, or ‘Jamie’, as Grant had taken to calling him, busied himself with his toy airplane that he rolled over your thigh while he continued to look at his father.

You waited for Steve to pick up the receiver, his hand pressed against the glass.

“My son.”

“James,” you countered. “My son.”

At the sound of his name, he grinned at you.

“Mommy,” he cooed, giving you a wet kiss on your cheek. He was loving and affectionate, free from any redirections from his father. He was adventurous and kind and you wanted it to stay that way.

“He’s about to be four. He’s strong, just like Grant. I wanted you to see him before we left.”

Steve’s eyes darkened at your comment.

“You’re not going anywhere. No matter where you go, we’ll always find you.”

You brushed back James’ hair, placing a kiss on the crown of his head.

“That’s your daddy, James,” you whispered against the shell of his ear. “Can you say hi?”

“Hi Daddy,” James greeted, giving a wave of his hand before he laughed.

Steve was in a stupor for the moment before he snapped out of it.

“Now say goodbye,” you urged, James sliding off your lap.

“Bye Daddy!” he said cheerfully, Grant opening the door and ushering his brother out.

“Where are you taking him?” Steve demanded. “I have rights.”

You swallowed hard, inhaling a deep breath before you started to talk.

“I hope you got a good look at him.”

“This isn’t funny,” Steve shot back at you. “Tony will find you.”

“We’re leaving. Grant and James are going with me. We are effectively стертый. Do you know what means?”

“No.” Steve’s voice left no room for engagement.

“It means erased. We cease to exist once I walk out that door. Myself, Grant and James. We leave here and you can’t find us. You both took everything from me but you gave me two gifts that I will cherish and protect with my life.”

“You won’t get away with this. Tony made you come here, he’ll find you and when we get out, you’ll be back under our watch all over again.”

“Will he?” you asked, getting up and walking toward the door.

“You go and we’ll just find you! Like we always do!” Steve's panicked shouts echoed in the small room.

🧨

You knelt down, adjusting James’ collar and smoothing down his shirt. You hugged them, their arms wrapped around you tightly before someone clearing their throat behind you caught your attention.

“I don’t want to ruin this Hallmark moment but your chariot has arrived,” the voice announced.

“Uncle Tony!” Grant cried out, both boys running toward him. Tony swooped down to pick up James, who let out a shriek of laughter.

“You guys ready to go?”

“Yeah!” Grant replied, motioning for you to come over. “Come on, Mom!”

You got to your feet and followed, Tony lifting up your head with the crook of his finger.

“The moment you’re up in the air, we wipe it clean. Natasha, Bruce and I will be the only ones who know where you are. It still doesn’t feel like enough, even with the safety protocols in place. I know I should do more, right?"

You shook your head.

“Tony -”

“Wait, before you finish. The lawyers let me know the judge denied the appeals. They aren’t getting out anytime soon. And if they do? We’ve got trackers on them. A little microchip, courtesy of Stark Industries. The first of its kind.”

He enveloped you into a hug, his voice shaking against your ear.

“I know they failed you but we won’t. Fuck ‘em. Raise those boys and be happy for once in your life, you hear? Once I activate the protocol, you'll be free. They won't be able to find you. Make sure you take care of yourself and them. Don't look back.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me.”

You sniffled and nodded.

“I promise.”

Grant pulled you up the steps of the jet, James following behind in wide eyed wonder.

“Mommy, where are we going?” James asked, still holding tight onto his airplane.

You settled back into your seat, relief easing into your body.

“Wherever we want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who took the time to read, give a kudos and comment, please know that I really appreciate you. I hesitated writing the end of this fic because I had so much fun writing the series that I didn't want it to end.
> 
> Thank you all for reading!


End file.
